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by nadiaselite



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, bellarke AU, bellarke college au, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiaselite/pseuds/nadiaselite
Summary: Clarke shows up in the middle of Bellamy's shower at 3 in the morning with a mental breakdown.





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**Author's Note:**

> This was really random and kind of soft. I wrote it in literally an hour so if there are any mistakes or it's really short just know that's why. I just had a need to write and post something so here's this short one-shot. I hope you like it. I'm sorry if it sucks. Please do leave me some nice comments because to be honest, I could use some positivity right now. Thank you.  
> Harqueen
> 
> xx

It was about 3 in the morning, Bellamy had just gotten back from his shift at the bar. He figured a quick shower would wake him up before he’d start working on his history paper. With school all day and work most of the night he’d have to sacrifice his sleep if he wanted to graduate.

There was no warning, no sign, not even a single text or call before Clarke burst through his bathroom door rambling hysterically in the middle of his shower. He couldn’t even scream, really he was more shocked than scared that Clarke was right on the other side of his bathroom curtain.

“ _Clarke_.” He yelled trying to get her to stop talking long enough to realize she was interrupting him while he was in the shower. “If you can’t tell I’m in the middle of something.”

He stuck his head out of the door to see Clarke pacing back and forth tears running down her cheeks as she lost herself in her thoughts. Without any further questioning, Bellamy ripped his towel from the rack and wrapped it around himself.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?” His arms immediately pulled her petite frame into his body, her tears now blending in with the water still running down his chest from the shower.

Clarke wasn’t one to cry without reason. She was strong, stronger than anyone he’d ever known. And now he couldn’t help but allow his mind to run itself into all ends of the insane reasons why she’d show up in his bathroom in this state.

Maybe it was the stress of finals. Maybe she’d allowed everything to build up again and just needed to let it all out. He’d done that to her plenty of times, but she always knew how to handle it. Maybe someone died.

She allowed herself to cry into Bellamy’s warm, wet chest for a few minutes before she stepped back and took a deep breath. Clarke found herself at Bellamy’s place whenever she was in trouble or needed anything, but right now she felt like she would break.

“Can we talk?” She wiped at the tears running down her cheeks in an effort to stop them. “I just-I need you.”

“I’m your person, remember?” He weakly smiled down at her before turning off his shower.

Once Clarke made her way out of his shower Bellamy quickly dried himself off and slipped into his clothes. His mind was still running through a selection of theories as to what could have made her like this, but his anxiety was getting the best of him and really he couldn’t wait any longer.

He made his way down the hall shutting his door on Miller’s confused expression. He let out a deep sigh as he looked at Clarke pacing back and forth with her fingers anxiously moving in and out of a fist.

Bellamy stepped in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders to pull her back to reality. Her bright blue eyes were lost in a red sea as all the veins took over the whites of her eyes. She’d clearly been crying for hours. The thought that she’d waited this long to come talk to him sent his stomach into knots.

Bellamy took a seat at the edge of his bed, allowing Clarke enough space to sit beside him. He could read Clarke like a book, from her eyes to the way she stood said it all. She didn’t need to tell him how she felt, he just always had his way of knowing.

Clarke placed her hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, another tear slipping down her cheek as she stared down into his eyes. “Bellamy. I can’t do it. I really just _can’t._ ”

Her breathing began to grow heavier and she felt herself hyperventilating again, but beneath Bellamy’s touch, she could feel her heart start to settle in just a little more. “I can’t...I won’t...I.” The tears were too much, the lump in her throat growing more profound and untamable than before.

She felt Bellamy tug at her arm, his hand carefully falling at her waist as she found herself standing between his legs. The warmth radiating from his body had a way of calming even the worst of feelings running through her body.

“I’m tired of her. I’m tired of doing everything for her. I’m tired of her comparing me to these shit people with shit personalities just because she thinks they’re more accomplished living in their lies. I’m tired of working my ass off only to get put down in return.” She found herself almost yelling, her hands tightening into two fists on either side of her. Her tears flowed heavier down her face as the memories ran through her head.

Years of resentment built up into this very moment. “I don’t give a shit. I work my ass off. I am at the top of my class. I’m Pre-Med at an amazing university. I’m a full-time student and I own my own damn business. I have an internship at one of the best research departments in the country. I founded my own nonprofit organization. What else could she want? How much more successful could I be? I’m only 21 fucking years old, Bellamy.”

She let out a deep breath, her eyes falling to Bellamy’s as she slowly began to catch a grip of herself. “I’m tired. I’ve worked so hard to be good, to be successful, to be everything she’s ever wanted in a daughter. I’ve worked so hard for her love. I deserve to be loved.” A tear slipped down her cheek. Her knees gave out beneath her and she found herself in Bellamy’s lap, her tears running down his chest as she leaned into him. “She doesn’t love me, Bellamy. Am I not worth loving?”

Bellamy watched as Clarke’s puffy red eyes met his, a broken look peering into his soul. He’d never seen her like this. She was torn apart, but he knew it’d come soon. He’d seen the way her mom treated her, the way she abused her.

Bellamy wiped at a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. “I can’t say why she doesn’t love you. I don’t know why she wouldn’t. Maybe _she_ isn’t the one worth loving.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head pulling her into his chest once more, his arms tightly pulling at her waist.

“She may not say it, but you’re perfect just the way you are. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I know there’s not a single thing I can say that could replace her or her absent love but just know that your dad would be proud.” He could feel her hum into his chest, a small satisfying wave running through his body as he allowed himself to relax.

“What did she do now?” He began to run his fingers through her hair, his chin carefully placed at the top of her head as he held her tightly against his body.

Clarke felt herself relax in his arms as his warm breath ran down the back of her neck, his fingers softly rubbing against her scalp as he played with her hair. “I called her to tell her I got into Harvard’s School of Medicine today.”

Bellamy immediately cut her off as he grabbed her by her shoulders holding her a small distance away. His entire body bursting with excitement. “Are you serious?” He was elated, practically floating with how happy he was.

As soon as she confirmed Bellamy stood up whisking Clarke off the floor and into a tight embrace. “I can’t believe this. Harvard has the best medical schools in the country. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier? When did you find out?”

Clarke stood in front of him, rubbing the back of her neck softly as she stared down at her feet. “I found out after I got home from the lab. I was going to come into the bar to celebrate with you, but then my mom called.”

“What could she have possibly said to make you feel bad about _Harvard_?” Bellamy sat back at the edge of the bed preparing himself for the worst.

“Instead of being happy that I got in she told me that Harvard wasn’t that hard to get into. Then she continued to tell me that her friend’s son got into Harvard’s Medical School at the age of 20 and that I’m 21 so it’s not special.” Bellamy could see Clarke’s hand tighten into fists as she replayed the conversation in her head. “She told me I was wasting my time painting and selling my art or trying to help poor kids get an education and should be focusing more on my career as a future doctor.”

Bellamy took her fists in his hands carefully running his thumb along her knuckles. “But you and I both know that’s ridiculous. Harvard is _Harvard_. It’s nearly impossible to get in and we both know that you worked hard for that.” He allowed her fingers to intertwine with his and he could feel Clarke’s nerves slowly calming down.

“Your amazing paintings are what paid for your school and helped you start your Wine and Painting studio, _remember?_ ” He felt her temperature fall back to normal and her pulse slows down under his fingertips, his heart-easing with hers. “You _will_ be a doctor and you _will_ be successful. No thanks to her or anyone else.”

Clarke laid back on the bed letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion. “I know. I know. I should be happy, but it’s just not fair. You know? I’ve worked so hard and I know my dad would have been proud. I just wish my mom would be too.”

Bellamy fell at her side, the both of them staring up at the large painting taped to his ceiling courtesy of Clarke Griffin. Staring up at his ceiling was his favorite part of the day. After endless nights without sleep and exhausting days at school, Clarke’s painting on his ceiling always reminded him why he worked so hard.

It was beautiful, really. Probably her best work ever. She was more of a landscape type of girl, but this was an exception she had to make. The painting was of Bellamy in the center surrounded by things that made up his world. There was a beautiful drawing of his mom before she’d passed, Octavia, their friends, small Greek symbols accompanied by historical figures, a small path leading to a bright little door, and around it all was a sea of stars similar to the ones that lined his face.

They could lay there all night and stare at it without ever getting tired because for some reason even with all the chaos that this painting carried it was relaxing.

Bellamy rolled over to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “I think you need to stop letting her get to you. Screw your mom you don’t need her.”

Clarke’s eyes shot over to meet Bellamy’s, a sad look worn heavily on her face. “Stop. At the end of the day, she’s my mom and I’ll always love her. Even if she doesn’t love me.”

“Clarke. She’s abused you all your life. How can you even say that?” Bellamy felt his heart twitch at her response. Clarke’s heart was too big and she was too caring for her own good. As strong as she was, she also cared too much about everyone but herself.

“Because she’s the only family I have left. I can’t lose her too.” She closed her eyes, a single stray tear running down her cheek.

“That’s not true. You have Wells, Monty, Jasper, Harper, Raven, Luna, Miller, Jackson, and the rest of our extremely dysfunctional family. _You have me._ ” Bellamy lied on his back allowing himself to sink into his own words. At least he considered her to be his family.

Clarke bit down on the inside of her mouth. Of course, they were family. Bellamy saved her in ways she couldn’t comprehend. “ _The heart and the head.”_ She weakly smiled over at him earning a soft kiss on the forehead in return.

“ _The heart and the head_.” He slipped his arm underneath her head pulling her a little closer.

Clarke never wanted pity or advice or anything superficial. All she ever needed when she felt like she was breaking was Bellamy. He always knew how to reassure her and restore her confidence in herself. He never made her feel guilty for being weak or broken, he just accepted it and moved on. He never changed the way he looked at her and she was more than grateful. And really he just had amazing shoulders to cry on. They were best friends if not _more_ . Hopefully one day they’d be _more_.

  
  



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